One day one of my sons drives me to the store. It’s about 1 p.m. when everyone gets out of school and the streets are filled with waves of blue Bais Yaakov shirts and flying shiny ponytails. The one-way street is bumper to bumper but the sun is shining through the car window and the air is crisp.
My son turns the dial of the radio presses some buttons and a song comes on. He says to me “Ima you have to hear this song. It’s my favorite.”
I’m hoping I’ll also like it and it won’t be one of those with a beat that goes through your back.
The song starts:
Ima
She prays for you
She moves the earth for you
Ima
She knows all
She never lets you fall
My son sings along and of course I cry while I watch the streets fill with Bais Yaakov girls yeshivah students old men and mothers pushing carriages. I’m thinking This is Ima.
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